


The Time It Takes

by TransformersG1fan271



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fiction, General fiction, Literature, Short Stories, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10171202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/pseuds/TransformersG1fan271
Summary: Fiddleford McGucket has a hard time regaining his memories, and here are his thoughts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the Week 2 prompt of Fiddleford-Appreciation-Month --> Memories/Recovery  
> If this looks familiar it's because this is on my DA and tumblr of the same name.
> 
> I don't own this precious babe --> Disney XD/Alex Hirsch [](http://shipoji.deviantart.com/art/Oldschool-Gravity-Falls-641719121) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Fiddleford found himself jealous at times, of Stanley Pines. The man was a bonified hero and was praised for all he had done, and of course Fiddleford was there to always lend a smile.

But underneath his good nature Fiddleford felt rather lonely, the first to always vanish into the background whenever Stanley remembered something else from days’ gone by. He wished it was just as easy for himself, but it seemed Fiddleford was rather unlucky in that regard. At first there were large gaps, long days where nothing would trickle back until an insignificant action or phrase would bring back a small memory here or there, and even so those were his good days. After Weirdmaggedon it got a little easier, the horrific creatures and Bill himself restoring a fair amount of his self that for a time Fiddleford felt the most complete he had in years, but that high faded when it was back to the usual routine of remembering little to nothing. Tate would hear at times his father’s frustration, either throwing himself into an inventing frenzy for days on end, or lying in bed all day sadly reminiscing what of his past he could remember while trying to look through old photos his son had managed to salvage and see if they could help him.

Once it was made clear how much his memory loss affected him, Fiddleford found things changing. Ford began to come over (once he had returned from his voyage with Stan) daily, old notes and photos of their younger days spilling from his arms as he lay them out in the large den and described to him for hours what their days had been like before his disappearance. Stanley would drop by every so often, begrudgingly telling him of the days he had watched Fiddleford lose his mind, unaware of at the time why he had been growing more frenzied until he became the hillbilly the town had come to know. Fiddleford recalled those days with a grimace, but any memory regained was a memory, so he was glad to take what he could even if they weren’t ones he liked to have back. Tate would try and work with his father in his own way, Fiddleford often in the best mood when he and his son would be found near the small bait shop he worked at sitting on the pier talking about his previous family life before he had been divorced.

It still was depressing at times, and there were days his thoughts were bleak as he wondered if he would ever truly regain who he had once been years ago, but looking at the many pictures around his home, or the special ones in his wallet were more than enough to restore his thoughts to a more positive outlook.  
  



End file.
